Can There Be A Good Life After Loss?

[MartyT]

A compelling piece by our friend Megan Devine via Refuge in Grief:

can there be a good life after loss?

I’ve been recording a lot of podcast interviews lately. One thing they all seem to have in common: the interviewer asks me about how my work – and my life – relate to Matt’s death. They want to know if I’m…. recovered. 

If you saw my episode during this week’s Explore More Summit, you know I still cry when I tell his story. Our story. That it’s been nearly 8 eight years, that I’ve told the story – his story, our story, mine – a million times, doesn’t matter. It’s not just a story. It still matters. It still hurts. 

Even though I am largely “fine,” 7 and a half years out from Matt’s death, it is still inconceivable to me that that man is dead. DEAD. WTH. 

What’s more, I can’t believe I survived. In those early days (months, years), the thought of a good life – any life – was horrifying to me. And yet, here I am. Happy. Despite the gaping hole in my life his death created. Despite missing him, missing our life, missing that person I was back then. Life grew in and around that crater, in ways I could not have imagined (in fact, resented and resisted) in those early days.

It’s a weird reality. 

So when I’m asked, in conversation after conversation, about my recovery, this is how I respond: I didn’t die back then, much as I may have wanted to. In the early days, I was horrified – disgusted – with the very idea that I would ever be “okay,” let alone happy. I couldn’t see any way that could happen, and not diminish Matt’s place in my life, in our life. 

That it’s happened – of its own accord – still surprises me. I’m so thankful for it, and – it’s still a little strange. 

The truth is, being happy now does not negate the pain of his death. They don’t cancel each other out. I carry both of them. Those two realities share the same space, side by side. They most likely always will. 

If you’re wrestling with the idea (from inside yourself or from others around you) that at some point, you’ll be “okay,” please know that it’s absolutely normal to feel freaked out by the idea. 

However long it takes, your heart and your mind will carve out a new life amid this weirdly devastated landscape. Little by little, pain and love will find ways to coexist. It won’t feel wrong or bad to have survived. It will be, simply, a life of your own making: the most beautiful life it can be, given what is yours to live. 

Both things will always be true. 

[Margm]

49 minutes ago, MartyT said:

The truth is, being happy now does not negate the pain of his death. They don’t cancel each other out. I carry both of them. Those two realities share the same space, side by side. They most likely always will. 

I subscribe to Megan's blog.  (I hope we call it that), and as many times as I read it. the title always reads "Refuge in Guilt" and it is something I cannot get rid of.  Maybe not the guilt so much but reading the word "guilt" as synonymous with "grief."  Beginning letter "g", middle letter "i" and there you have it, grief/guilt.  Don't you think a psychiatrist would have fun with me?  

Still, I honestly have to forget there was a Billy (and you say that is impossible), well, it is impossible, but it is just about as improbable as happiness, and sometimes I can feel a hint of something familiar about a moment.............happiness?????  I just don't know yet and don't know if I will live long enough to find out.  Strangely, it matters not.   

[Brad]

3 hours ago, Marg M said:

happiness?????  I just don't know yet and don't know if I will live long enough to find out.  Strangely, it matters not.   

 

This is one of the "freeing" concepts of my grief.  My death is okay.  Trying to get the kids to understand that is more of a challenge but I do continue the conversations.  I am not suicidal but now look at life on my terms.

[KATPILOT]

"The truth is, being happy now does not negate the pain of his death. They don’t cancel each other out. I carry both of them. Those two realities share the same space, side by side. They most likely always will."
 

I so believe this to be true. My life now is not my life before.  The pain of Kathy's loss will never end and I cry still today yet I live on because she would want that for me. I know I would want that for her in the worst way.  So when we think about being happy again, let's know right now that it will never be without some sorrow. I haven't been as happy as I am today for years but I will always have grief. I just can't see it any other way. Still I will take this path and embrace the happy. Life is too short to waste.

I keep hearing her say that.

[MartyT]

Amen, dear Steve. Amen to that  ♥